


The Deal

by Slaskia



Series: Chronicles [4]
Category: Halo
Genre: Gen, Leadership, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-27
Updated: 2009-11-27
Packaged: 2017-11-15 20:22:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/531313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slaskia/pseuds/Slaskia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the earliest beginnings of the Covenant, Nant, the leader of a clan of outcasts, is approached by a stranger with an offer. Will he refuse the offer or accept it and risk all for the chance to improve their lot?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Deal

Sangheilos, home of the Sangheili.  The land of the planet was divided into provinces, which were themselves divided into numerous city-states.  Each city-state had its own lineage, its own history and the inhabitants of these states lived in relative comfort, with only the threat of another city-states, or forces from beyond their planet, to worry about. 

But not all Sangheili are privileged to live in a state.  On the fringes of the state borders lived clans of nomadic Sangheili, who had to deal with the threats from the planet itself on almost a daily basis.  These Sangheili were often outcasts from actual states that had banded together for mutual survival: outcast either by to their own hand or the hand of someone within their bloodline.  Few choose this simpler life, where the technology their people have developed was of little use, or hard to come by.  Such items were either stolen from trade caravans or in rare cases, traded for legitimately, for these nomads often had nothing of real value to offer in return. 

Occasionally, a clan of nomads gets large, or bold enough, to chance taking over the land of an established state. These conflicts are often bloody and quick, the results either the decimation of the clan that did not prepare properly or underestimated the strength of their target, a successful take over, or ruin to both sides.  

This is the story of one such clan, who saw an opportunity, and a bit of outside help, to form a state of their very own. 

*** 

 _852 BCE, Sangheilos_  

For the first time in days, the triple suns of Sangheilos shone through the thick clouds.  A sign that the rainy season was finally starting to abate.  Yet, this was of little comfort to Nant.  The high canyon walls of the small valley they were currently camping in allowed little sunlight, little warmth, into this dreary place.  Those same walls also kept the dampness in and blocked the wind, keeping the valley damp and cold. 

This dampness had caused a spike of illnesses among the members of his clan, especially among the weakest, like the old and the very young.  Normally, this wouldn’t bother Nant so much, as it was the Sangheili way, particularly the way of nomadic clans, to only allow the strongest to survive and breed.  But misfortune had been haunting them as of late.  Many children had died already due to lung illnesses and other infections caused by the unusually long rains.  Worse, there had been a spike in childbirth deaths as well, for the horrid conditions had sapped the strength and will of the mothers, despite the medicine men’s best efforts. 

He supposed he could count themselves as the lucky ones of the nomadic clans of this region.  Others have been even harder hit, either due to the war going on of which he could hear at times in the distance, or due to the same or worse conditions his own clan was in.  Normally, nomadic clans avoided each other to prevent sapping the land of needed resources too quickly, or to prevent bloodshed.  Lately, clans that had been all but completely decimated had been approaching him for admittance:  Nant allowed these remnants to join his clan, for in these trying times, there was strength in numbers.  Plus, it was always good to introduce new blood into the clan, so long as they respected his authority.  However, unless things changed soon, the new members would do little good to ensure the survival of the clan. 

Nant knew the best way to improve his clan’s situation, but it carried a lot of risk.  Not far away, was the State of Girvum, a smaller state in the province the clan roamed.  Long had he coveted the land it stood upon:  a vast valley with bountiful fields for the herds and safe streams for the herds to drink from.  However, the Girvum’s were well fortified against land-based assaults and Nant could very well lose most if not all of his warriors in an attack.  Therefore, he waited, waiting for a sign, an opportunity. 

That sign came, several nights ago.  Streams of hot plasma had rained down from the sky, landing in Girvum territory.  The enemies of the Sangheili, weak looking creatures they dubbed San ‘Shyuum, had taken to bombarding the planet itself once again.  It was due to these types of periodic attacks that were the reason Nant kept his clan in these narrow canyons and caves: plasma cannot go through solid rock.  This time, it seemed the San ‘Shyuum had done them a favor and he had sent a few scouts out into Girvum land to assess the damage.  

As he waited for their return, he had noticed the sounds of war had gone still.  What this ultimately meant he had no way of knowing.  It could be a ceasefire for negotiations, or the San ‘Shyuum had simply moved to a different area of the planet.  This bothered him greatly, for if he did attack the Girvums and succeed, the San ‘Shyuum could return and bombard their newly won land once again, ignorant that the land was under new management.  It would be just his luck, considering how things were going now, for such a thing to happen. 

Nant sighed softly and went back into his hut.  Inside he looked upon his mate, Lun, whom was heavy with child.  She was due any day now and she rested frequently to save her strength for the difficulty of childbirth.  Nant prayed every day to the gods above that both she and the child would survive the birth and avoid the illnesses that were currently plaguing the clan.  What disturbed him though, was that despite being covered with thick furs, she was shivering. 

Without a second thought, he joined her under the furs and drew her close, sharing his body heat with her.  “Nant…,” she said softly.  “You should be seeing to the others.” 

“When you are warm again, I shall,”  Nant replied, nuzzling her. 

“I long for a real bed….” 

“As do I…As do most in the clan.  Someday…Someday that will come true,”  _And hopefully very soon,_ he thought, but did not speak out loud.  He did not want to give Lun false hopes over something that may not happen as soon as he hoped.  Nant lay with her until her shivering stopped and she had fallen asleep once more.  Only then, did he slip away and left his hut once again. 

“ _Shuka_ ,” one of the guards said, coming up to him.  “Some of the scouts have returned.  They await you in the Flowing Hall.” 

Nant nodded his thanks and immediately headed for the Flowing Hall.  Inside were two of the four scouts he had sent out to seek information on the Girvums.  They must have ran all night, for both of them sat with mandibles wide, sucking in large daunts of air while trying to catch their breath. Despite both being exhausted, they immediately stood when they noticed his presence and saluted. 

“What have you found out?”  Nant asked them. 

“The Girvum keep seems to have taken a direct hit or two, _shuka,_ ” one of the scouts replied.  “Even from a distance, we could see several structures burning and it is likely that some of their fortifications have fallen.” 

“Only likely?” 

“Forgive us, _shuka_ ,” the other responded.  “We could not get close enough to verify:  the Girvums know they are weakened and are on the alert.  The other two scouts stayed behind to try to get closer.” 

“Let us hope they do not act recklessly then,”  Nant said.  “If they are discovered, the Girvums will become aware that we know of their weakened state.  I would much rather they return intact with nothing, then to ruin any chances of a raid.” 

“I am certain they will be cautious and return swiftly.” 

“I shall pray to the gods that they will do so.” 

He dismissed them, allowing them to go back to their own mates to rest and recuperate.  Afterward, Nant wandered the camp, checking on his people.  Everyone seemed to be in good spirits due to the suns finally having reappeared, but Nant knew they were not out of the woods yet. 

“S _huka_!”  Someone called to him.  He turned to see one of the sentries that had been posted in the narrow canyon access points to this small valley.  “There is a stranger in the eastern passage.” 

“Stranger?”  Nant echoed. 

“Aye, _shuka_.  An alien, with two Sangheili bodyguards.” 

“An alien…San ‘Shyuum?” 

“I am not certain, but most likely.” 

 _What madness is this?_   Nant thought. _Why would my people guard the ones we have been fighting for so long?_   If this alien was indeed a San ‘Shyuum of course.  “What is their purpose?” 

“They wish to speak to you, _shuka_.” 

 _Me?  Why?_ _What do they want of me?_   Questions coursed through Nant’s mind, questions he did not have answers to.  The most important one though was should he grant this creature an audience?  It was plain they did not come here to attack, otherwise the sentry would have told him so, or be dead.  “Very well,” Nant said, curiosity getting the better of him.  “Allow me to grab my kisan and shield, in case this is a trick.” 

“Of course, _shuka._ ” 

He returned to his hut and retrieved the weapons of battle, slipping the shield over his shoulder and hooking the kisan to his belt.  Nant looked down upon his wife briefly before leaving the hut once more and followed the sentry to where their ‘guests’ stood waiting.  The other sentry, a hot-tempered male named Vun, looked ready to pounce upon one of the alien’s guards:  no doubt the guard muttered some kind of insult.  It was to be expected:  those that lived in keeps always looked down upon the keepless. 

“Stand down Vun,” Nant ordered. “If they did not come here looking for a fight, let us not give it to them.” 

“Yes, _shuka_ ,” Vun muttered, straightening his posture, though he still looked tense. 

Nant took a moment to study the creature the foreign Sangheili were guarding.  It looked weak, atrophied even and sat upon a floating bowl of metal.  Bulbous eyes sat in a small skull attached to a thin, wiry neck and it was dressed in a type of elegant robe.  Weak yes, but there was a cunning intelligence in those eyes, a cunning Nant’s instincts were saying not to trust so quickly. 

Still, it did appear their claims were true, for no attack came.  “Please forgive my warriors,” Nant said politely, bowing slightly but never letting his good eye off them.  “We are not used to having visitors that did not mean harm coming to our doorstep.” 

“In these trying times it is understandable,” the creature replied smoothly.  “No harm done.” 

“I am Nant, _shuka_ of this clan.  I am told you wish to speak to me?”  A nod.  “For what reason?” 

“I wish to make an offer,” the creature said calmly.  “One that could benefit your clan greatly.” 

“I shall be the judge of that.”  What could this creature possibility know about his clan and what they needed?  “Who are you, to claim to want to make such an offer when I have never seen the likes of you before?” 

The creatures guards bristled and hissed, but the creature held up a hand and stilled them.  Who was this creature that commanded his own people with ease?  “I am the Hierarch of Transparency, a San ‘Shyuum as your people refer to us.” 

 _So this is a San ‘Shyuum,_   Nant thought with distaste.  _These weak creatures were what my people were fighting all these years?_   “Why are you here, San ‘Shyuum, you are my people’s enemy are you not?” 

“No longer.  The war is over.  Your people and mine have signed a treaty a few days ago.  We are allies now.” 

So that explained the ceasing of the sounds of war, but Nant was wry of this ‘hierarch’ none-the-less.  What compelled his people to form an alliance?  “And what do you want of me and my clan?” Nant asked.  “We are outcasts, honorless in the eyes of those living in keeps.  What would you gain by making offers to the likes of us?” 

“I assure you I have my reasons,” Transparency replied.  “But first let us move to a more…Comfortable location for this discussion.” 

Nant blinked, scowling faintly.  “Very well, but your guards stay here.”  The San ‘Shyuum’s guards again bristled and opened their mouths to protest.  Nant quickly raised his hand to reassure them.  “On my honor, your charge will come to no harm while in my camp.” 

“What does a savage like you know of honor?”  One of the guards growled. 

Nant rounded on him.  “Mind your tongue, for I may know more about honor then you.”  The two stared at each other for a moment and eventually the guard backed down under Nant’s intense stare.  The San ‘Shyuum was looking on, a slight amused expression on his face.  It had to have been shameful for the guard, with the way his partner was giving him a mocking grin.  Nant ignored them though and beckoned for Transparency to follow. 

“A curious scar you have,” the San ‘Shyuum said as he floated beside him.  Nant knew he ahd to be referring to the scar over his right eye, for it was the only one that was immediately obvious. “How did you acquire it?” 

“In a battle for leadership,” Nant replied simply.  “I may have lost an eye, but my opponent lost his life.” 

“I am not so familiar with your kind’s ways as of yet, but that strikes me as atypical for your people.  Don’t your people’s elders elect the most worthy candidate for the role?” 

“Such a system is reserved for those that live in keeps,”  Nant said with a snort  “Out here in the wilderness, we do not live long enough to become _elderly_.  Thus our leaders are chosen through honorable combat instead.” 

The San ‘Shyuum only nodded, a thoughtful look on his face.  

As he led his ‘guest’ toward the Flowing Hall, he noted the curious looks from his fellow clans people.  He also noticed how Transparency was looking around, absorbing the situation of his people: it made Nant uncomfortable.  At last, they reached the Flowing Hall and Nant held open the flap to allow the San ‘Shyuum admittance.  He entered himself once the San ‘Shyuum was in. 

“Now _Hierarch_ , speak your offer, so I may judge it worth my time or not.” 

“Our forces fought each other for many decades,” the San ‘Shyuum began.  “Bringing death and ruin to each side.  If the treaty had not been signed, we would be fighting still and likely to both our extinction.  You commanders and mine finally saw the pointlessness to the fighting and agreed to end the war, to join together in a mutual allegiance for the better of both species.  Your people are to be our protectors, our military strength, while mine will offer technological and spiritual guidance.” 

“My people have their own technology and our own gods, why would we do such a thing?” 

“We have a greater knowledge and understanding of the relics of the Forerunners, Nant, knowledge we are willing to share for the benefit of both.  Many of your people have already converted into the belief of the Great Journey.” 

“Great Journey?” 

Transparency then told him about the Great Journey, how the Forerunners transcended into gods and left clues to the path for others to do the same.  Nant listened with some interest, but was doubtful.  “What good would this ‘Great Journey’ be to me and my clan?” he asked.  “Or the technology you promise to share?  We are nomads, _savages_ that have no use for such things.” 

“You know of the land to the west of this camp?” 

“Of course.  The State of Girvum.” 

“That land could be yours, if you so wish it.  Claim it as you own and be stuck in a life of savagery no more and to be able to receive the gifts I am wish to offer you.” 

“I have scouts investigating them as we speak, seeing if it would be worth the risk to my clan.  I fear I am one-step ahead of you, San ‘Shyuum.” 

“But how close can your scouts get without being discovered?  How much can they uncover?  I can offer you much more information about their situation, information vital to a successful take over.” 

“And what would _you_ gain if we did take over the State?” 

“What _we_ would gain is greater stability of our allegiance, Nant.  The Girvum is one of many that refuse to accept our alliance, our Covenant.  If these dissenters are not convinced or otherwise _removed_ it could lead to strife among your own.  Strife that could lead to civil war.  Your people are weakened, Nant, and such a war could decimate your people utterly.” 

“So you wish me to make war on the Girvums, to remove a source of descent from Sangheilos and ensure such devastation does not occur?”  Transparency nodded.  “Why not ask a keep that has converted to your faith to do this?”  

“I had considered it, but feared such a thing would result in the same thing: civil war.  No, it is far better if the keep appeared to be taken over by a rival, a new state born in the ashes of the old.  In addition to information, I can also provide troops and weapons for this deed.” 

Nant made a purring sound in his throat, a light of desire in his eye, but his face quickly hardened.  “I will accept information, but nothing more,”  he said.  “Anything else would taint the honor of the deed.” 

“So you will attack the Girvum keep and claim it as your own?” Transparency looked almost elated. 

“That, is not a decision for me to make, but my clan,” Nant said smoothly.  “Please understand, you ask us to abandon our old faith and risk our lives to take over a keep in an attack that may not succeed.  It is, and will be, a lot for many of my clan to accept, despite the desire to live in greater comfort.  I must convince them to agree to your terms first, before such an attack may be made.” 

“Then take what time you need to do so, but pray it does not take long.  Even as we speak, the Girvum are starting to recover from the war.” 

“A fact that I am well aware of, Hierarch.  Give me a day and night and you will have your answer.” 

“Very well.  I will be in a camp to the east of here.  When you have your answer, I will be waiting there.” 

Nant escorted the San ‘Shyuum back to his guards, his mind in turmoil over the hierarch’s offer.  Should he take his offer?  Risk his people’s lives in what may be a fruitless effort?  Would he really be helping his people as a whole by doing his part to prevent a planet wide civil war? 

“ _Shuka_!” 

Nant’s thoughts were snapped to the present when one of the women approached him, a look of urgency on her face.  “What is it?” 

“Your excellence, Lun has gone into labor.” 

All thoughts of the deal left his head as something more important to him took priority…

***

Nant howled with despair. 

The baby was stillborn. 

 _Why!?_   He thought, as he held Lun close, comforting her the best he could.  _Why Gods!?  Why are you punishing us like this!?  What have we done to deserve this!?_  

Three children now, they had lost.  Their first was bitten by a _vi’got_ before he had reached his first year, the insects poison taking his life within moments.  The second died of a respiratory infection within a month of birth.  This one did not even make it beyond the birth itself, a terrible shame for Lun.  And now Lun herself must be watched, to ensure no infection struck her down as well, as it had so many other women as of late. 

“ _Shuka_ …?”  A cautious voice queried. Nant looked up to see one of the guards, his head just inside the doorway.  “Forgive me for intruding on such a delicate time, but the remaining scouts have returned.” 

“Please tell me they have good news,” Nant said, his voice soft and desperate. 

The other Sangheili hung his head.  “I am sorry, _shuka_ , but they report that they were unable to get any closer to the Girvum keep.” 

“I see.  Go…leave me be.”  Once the guard had left, he punched his fist into the hard earth in frustration.  Their biggest chance at improving their lot was slipping away from him by the moment and they could not confirm the strength of their opponent.  _No…’we’ can’t,_ he thought, suddenly remembering the offer the San ‘Shyuum told him.  _But ‘they’ can._  

Gently he laid his wife down, nuzzling her face softly before standing.  “Nant…?” she queried weakly. 

“Rest, my beloved wife.  There is something I must do.”  Nant stepped out of the hut, his kisen and shield once again on his side and back respectively.  “Gather the people, I have an announcement to make,” he told one of the nearby warriors, whom nodded and quickly ran off to do his bidding. 

In the sky above, the first sun was starting to set somewhere beyond the high canyon walls.  In the dimming light, his people gathered before him.  They all looked upon him with expressions of anxiety and some hope, all wondering what he had to say.  Nant knew that some of what he would say would not sit well with some and there was a risk he could even be challenged.  A risk, he would have take if he was to save his clan. 

“Honorable brothers and sisters.  Honorable mothers and uncles,” he began.  “Long we have suffered and endured our planet’s challenges.  Long has it tested our resolve and will, trying to break us.  Long have those more fortunate then us looked down their muzzles at us and viewed us as nothing more then savages, dirt beneath their hooves.”  He saw nods of acknowledgement and he continued.

“You all have heard the sounds of war around us, a war that has ravaged and weakened those that looked down upon us.  You all heard and saw the fire that rained down upon the Girvum lands a few nights ago.  Our opportunity has come, my brethren.  The Girvum are weakened and vulnerable!  It is time to take their land and form a state of our own!” 

“Weakened yes, but how much so?” one of the warriors asked.  “The scouts have been unable to confirm how many of their fortifications have fallen.  How many of their forces are still intact?  We cannot risk underestimating them in our own weakened state.” 

“That is true, but there are those that are willing to help us, provide use with the knowledge needed to counter what defenses they have remaining.” 

“You mean that creature you spoke with earlier?  The San ‘Shyuum? How can we trust the word of an enemy?” 

“They are enemies no longer,” Nant told him.  “The war between our peoples is over and an allegiance has formed.”  There was murmuring in the crowd.  “The Girvum has refused to accept this alliance and threaten the stability of our people.  The civil war that may result could lead to our extinction.  The Hierarch of Transparency has asked us take their land for our own and remove this threat, for the sake of all of Sangheilos.  All he asks in return is to accept his people as spiritual advisers and they will bestow us with many gifts, gifts that will elevate our status.” 

“You are delusional,” the same warrior growled.  “The failure of your wife to bring a live child into being has clouded your thinking!  How do you know this _Hierarch_ is speaking the truth and will follow up on his end of the deal?  How do you know this is not some elaborate Girvum trap to rid themselves of a threat?” 

“I have faith that he speaks truly,”  Nant said lowly. 

“Faith?  Faith in a creature that only so recently became a so-called _ally_ to our people?  No, you lack faith in the old Gods that have served us well for generations.  Faith that has faltered the moment they sought to test your devotion.  I do not believe you are fit to continue as our _shuka_.” 

“You challenge me then?”  Nant moved his hand to the hilt of his kisen. 

“For the sake of the clan, I do.  When you are dead and I rule, we will attack the keep without this _Hierarch’s_ help.” 

“Very well, for the sake of the clan.” 

The crowd quickly backed away, forming a fighting circle around the two combatants.  Nant slid his shield down off his back, its handle stopping within the grip of his left hand, his right rested on the kisen’s hilt.  His opponent also had a shield, but used a standard blade rather then a kisen.  They circled each other, Nant tightening his grip on the kisen hilt as they both looked for signs of weakness in their opponent’s defenses. 

It was his opponent that attacked first.  His blade came fast in a forward thrust, Nant angling his shield so the blow was deflected off its surface.  Then unexpectedly,  the man changed the strike to a slash, moving his sword toward his face.  Nant jerked back instinctively, but the tip of the blade nicked his lower left mandible:  he felt a faint trickle of blood from the wound that resulted. 

“First blood is mine,” his opponent taunted. 

“Yes indeed, however….”  Nant said, finally bringing up his kisen blade to bare.  He lunged at his opponent with a vicious elbow strike, the blow connecting with his shield and sending him back a pace. The other warrior attacked with an overhead swing, a strike Nant blocked with the back blade of the kisen.  Then, before he could recover, he swiftly twisted his moved his arm crossways, slashing the fighting end of the kisen across the warrior’s neck.  The warrior gasped as his life blood gushed forth, staggered, then fell to the ground.  “Last blood is more important.”  Nant finished, then finished him off with a decapitating blow to the neck. 

The challenge won, he looked around at the gathering, looking for other dissenters and possible challengers. 

There were none.

 ***

The second sun was fully set by the time Nant and his two bodyguards reached the San ‘Shyuum’s camp.  It consisted of a single tent, which was set up next to some sort of transport vessel.  There were two guards on either side of the tents entrance flap and said guards stiffened at their presence and brandished their weapons.  “Peace, brothers.”  Nant said, holding up his hand.  “I am Nant and I come to speak to the Hierarch about the deal he offered me earlier in the day.” 

The guards stared at him for a moment, and then one of them sheathed his weapon and entered the tent.  A moment later, he returned and beckoned for him to enter.  “Wait for me here.” Nant told his own guards, whom nodded. 

“I was not expecting word from you until the morrow,” Transparency said as he entered. 

“Things have…Forced my hand,”  Nant said softly.  “I will accept your deal Hierarch.  As we speak, my clan is preparing to attack the Girvum keep.  We will need, however, the information you promised us.” 

“Of course. Follow me.”  Transparency beckoned him to follow as he directed his floating seat out a back exit of the tent.  The Hierarch led him inside the transport vessel, the inside of which Nant had never seen or heard of before.  It took all of Nant’s will power not to gawk at its majesty.  _Soon, things like this could be mine,_ Nant thought. 

The San ‘Shyuum finally stopped before some type of control panel and after manipulating its surface for a moment, a large bright 3D display suddenly popped up over a table in front of him.  Nant blinked a moment, trying to comprehend the image and what it meant. 

“This, is a map of the Girvum keep.”  Transparency said, gesturing to it with a three fingered hand.  With one hand he manipulated the controls more and the image flipped to a topside view and zoomed out, showing most of the valley.  “Your camp is here.”  A green dot appeared on the right edge of the map.  “The latest scans of the Girvum forces put them as so.”  A series of red dots appeared, most formed a loose perimeter around the keep, with most predictably within the keep itself.  The total number of red dots was far less then Nant had expected. 

“If this is correct, then the majority of their fighting forces are in the perimeter ring, the rest being women, children and other non-combatants,”  Nant said, awestruck.  “The bombardment of the keep several days ago must have decimated their fighting force greatly.” 

“Yes, it has.  You are most fortunate that whatever allies they had refuse to aid them due to them refusing to join us.  A perfect opportunity, for those more worthy to strike and take what is rightfully yours.” 

“Yes.  Indeed.”  Nant studied the map of the keep itself for a moment more, memorizing locations of likely importance: such as the possible location of their Stone Hall.  “Thank you, Hierarch.  This information will aid me greatly.  I must go now, back to my people and share the knowledge you have given me.” 

“Best of luck to you, Nant.  Walk the Path.” 

Nant gave the San ‘Shyuum the customary Sangheili salute, and then found his way out of the transport on his own.  Once he reunited with his guards, they jogged back to their camp.  There he made a poor reproduction of the map Transparency showed him using the dust in the ground, showing his warriors what was shown to him.  Quickly a planned formed.

 ***

When the night was at its deepest, they went into motion.  The twin moons of Sangheilos lit their way and the tall plains grasses masked their approach.  The gods surely were smiling upon them, for the  wind came from the west, keeping their scent away from the wary perimeter guards.  The Girvums would not know an attack is coming, until it was too late. 

Nant had separated his warriors into three groups.  One would attack from the northeast, another from the southeast, while the group he personally led would strike in the middle.  A three-pronged attack, to make their numbers appear greater then they really were, to strike fear into their foe.  Even before the attack began, Nant could smell the Girvum apprehension on the air, if not outright _fear_. 

The biggest challenge was the _agyat_ herds.  Though the lumbering beasts were tamed and used to the scent of Sangheili, the sudden appearance of a large number of them would likely startle them.  So his warriors were given instructions to give the animals a wide berth if at all possible. 

They managed to pass the herds without incident. 

Then a cry of alarm: they had been spotted.  Nant lifted his head to the sky and roared, signaling his warriors to attack.  Corresponding battle cries sung through the air and the clan warriors rushed forward toward the Girvum line.  The first perimeter guards fell quickly to the assault and in no time at all, they reached the ruined wall that surrounded the keep property.  Here, half the warriors, including Nant himself, climbed over the wall and began the assault within the keep, while the remainder circled around to deal with the remaining perimeter guards that were doubtless rushing toward their position. 

Now another set of instructions came into play: only those that took up arms against them were to die.  They would need the male serfs to continue to tend to the herds, which they would claim as their own.  The women and children that did not resist them would be absorbed into the clan, or allowed to commit suicide if they wished.  The streets of the keep were already starting to flow with much Sangheilian blood, the air filled with the screams of the dying. 

Nant, with a couple of chosen warriors, loped purposely toward a specific structure: the structure he suspected held the keeps kaidon and elders.  He guessed correctly: there were guards posted at the entrance.  Guards that looked confused and uncertain as to what to do.  Nant’s approach clarified their minds, but it did not save them from his skilled blade.  They cut a bloody swath through any opposition as they searched for their quarry and at last one of them appeared. 

The Girvum kaidon stood before them, blocking the way to what had to be the Stone Hall just beyond.  Nant was disappointed, for the kaidon was not in fighting shape:  half his body was marked with burns, likely from the bombardment the keep suffered not long ago.  The man was shaking, due to pain if not fear, and barely able to hold the sword in his hand.  Nant almost felt guilty for removing his head from his body, but guilt was not a luxury to have in this matters such as this.  At the very least, he gave the kaidon an honorable death, even if it was no challenge to do so. 

Within the Stone Hall, there was a small gathering of elders, arguing amongst themselves.  An argument that ceased the moment Nant a walked into their hallowed hall.  “You do not belong here!” One of them cried, pointing a shaky finger at him.  “When our allies hear of this…” 

“Your allies have turned their backs against you,” Nant scowled as he advanced upon them.  “You who refused to join the new world order.  I know this, for I am a part of that new order.  If you had not resisted, your lives would have been spared, but now only death awaits you.”  With one strike, the elder was dead.  The others quickly joined him as Nant’s warriors assisted him in ending the rest of their pathetic lives. 

The deed was done and now one more task awaited completion.  Nant turned his attention to the stone slabs that ringed the room of the Stone Hall, the slabs that had the Girvum Saga etched upon their surfaces.  Impressive slabs of solid stone nine feet high, they stood the test of time itself as told by the weathering upon their surfaces, but time had run out for them. 

Nant seized one of the slabs by the edge and pulled with all his strength.  The other two warriors watched, forbidden to aid in this task, for it was Nant’s duty as _shuka_ and future kaidon to be the one to break the first stone.  If he failed, then he would be unworthy to be the first kaidon of the new state. 

The stone refused to be pulled down, but only at first.  Then with a roar of triumph, the stone gave way and fell, crashing to the earth and splitting into pieces.  The witnessing warriors roared in victory, then lent their strength to aid Nant in the destruction of the remaining stones.  Within the hour, the Girvum Saga was no more.

***

By the time the first sun of Sangheilos started its ascent into the sky, the bloodletting was over.  Most of the remaining Girvum had either died in battle, or took their own lives rather than to serve another.  Those that remained surrendered, hoping their lot under Nant would be kinder to them then it was under their former masters.  They would be absorbed and treated as if they were always a part of them. 

Nant himself stood upon one of the few intact balconies of the keep.  Below him, the bodies of the dead were being ferried out to a chosen spot in the fields where they would be burned, the ashes later spread across the fields.  The ashes would fertilize the fields, making the grasses hardier and more nutritious for the herds, which would in turn strengthen and provide ample meat and hides for the lands new masters. 

“ _Shuka_ …I mean… _Kaidon_.”  A voice announced behind him.  Nant chuckled slightly at the error: it would take some time for his new title to set in.  “You have a visitor.” 

“Then by all means, let him in,” Nant said, turning to see the Hierarch of Transparency join him on the balcony. 

“I see things went very well for you,” the San ‘Shyuum said.  “If not a bit bloody.” 

“Such is the way of the Sangheili,” Nant said.  “The strong rule, while the weak must either obey, or die.” 

“And thus you are the new masters of this land, as I said you could be.  Though I can see rebuilding these war torn ruins may take some time.” 

“Rebuilding will take time, yes, but not because of the damage war has done.  I have no intentions of rebuilding these ruins, for the location is in an open and less defensible location.  I intend to construct a new keep, within the valley mountain walls itself.” 

“A wise choice.  Many keeps survived the worse of the war because of such a decision.  Vadam, Gotern…and many others, still thrive.” 

“And so we will, so long as the gods permit it.” 

“I feel they are indeed smiling upon you as we speak, kaidon.  One question remains.” 

“Speak it, noble Hierarch.” 

“What will you call your state, if you have not decided already?” 

Nant smiled when he gave his answer.  “Ribal.” 

 _King of the land_.


End file.
